Morning journal and courier., 1887-06-15
KNEW TIP WHEN SHE SAW HIT.
An Incident That Shows That the sSace-Going Woman is Peculiar and Sometimes Lucky.
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From the Baltimore News.l
 The race-going woman is peculiar. Very few ladies attend the races regularly, though one is sure of seeing the good friends of the bookmakers, gamblers and sporting men generally strewn through the grand stand in more or less fashy attire. When woman begins to gamble she ceases to be ornamen- tai, and it becomes craze with her that is exceedingly difficult to master. Many of the women gamblers on the stand that day have been known to race-goers for years and years. There were twenty or thirty fat old women with wrinkled faces and eager eyes who would talk horse till you couldn't sec, and who apparently knew more about the probable winners than any bookmaker on the track. They were invariably accompa- nied by some effeminate faced, half-fed look ing man who did their running about, and they talked garrulously with everyone. remember after the second race I went up into the grand stand and sank into more or less secluded chair in the rear row for a quiet smoke. They were trying to start a field of two-year olds, and as there were nineteen of them it bade fair to be a half hours work at least I looked in front of me and saw row after row of magnigcently dressed women chatting with the excite ment of the sport with the people around them, and talking about the starters in the coming race. Suddenly somebody nudged by elbow, and looking around I discovered woman who must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, and who occupied the greater portion of three chairs immedi- ately to my left. Her face was wrinkled but amiable, and she smiled upon me with buttery sweetness she said:
 "Hevingsl how you have grown since I seen yer first, one day at Jerome Park the day Rhadamanthus ran Rameses."
 s'That's long while ago." I said misti- ly I had not the least idea who the wo- man was, but I remembered the race very well. My companion nudged my arm again with the confidential air of a bulbous Sai- rey Camp and said:
 "Well, do you know what number Rhad- amanthus was on the card that daya'
 "Of course not. I can scarcely remem- Der his name."
 ''He was No. 16," said my ponderous companion mysteriously, "and this day is the anniversary or that day. Sixteen was the dark winner then and Pm gointer back No. 16 for the handicap today. I dreamed last night that after the second race I would have dead tip to day, and here it is puffeckly plain sailing. You come right up on the stand an set right up beside of me and remind me of the what thing. So play 16 on to-day's card. See what his name is."
 I referred to the card and saw that the horse was Dry Monopole. We discussed his chances for moment. Then I gave way to the superstition of my amiabie and weighty acquaintance, called a bookmaker up to the grand stand and asked him what he would do on Dry Monopole.
 Six to one for you," he said, with 8 touching emphasis on the you; and so both of us backed the horse. went down the stretch just before they started and found that every gambler, bookmaker and man of brains on the track was backing either Blue Wing or Exile. I did not say much about Dry Monopole, but when the horses swept around into the homestretch and No. 16 headed the string and came in clear winner, rushed up to the grand stand and shook hands with the fat old woman with degree of enthusiasm that causes me to turn hot and cold by turns now when I think of it.. She was as thoroughly composed as the sod across the stretch
 There was nothin' wonderful about it at all, :" she said calmly, though she could not resist an evanescent smile as she rammed an enormous pile of bills into her reticule. sI dreamed was going to have tip and had sense enough to take it when it came. When l don't know enough to do that I'll quit playin' races" But the smile was hilarious despite her words.